


your fingers entwined slowly with mine (and suddenly, life made sense)

by altissimozucca



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT3, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:30:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22921099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altissimozucca/pseuds/altissimozucca
Summary: "We're not traditional. We're not what you're used to. We don't want to be. We have our differences, and we do fight sometimes, and we do have our good days and bad days, and we cuddle, and we kiss, and we have sex just like you do. And we love each other, all three of us, unconditionally and equally, and there's no you and me and him, there's only us."or, a collection of snippets in the life of my OT3
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Comments: 53
Kudos: 120





	1. "And are you cheating on us?"

**Author's Note:**

> I love these 3 so much it's unreal

** Max loved wearing** his boyfriends’ clothes.

It mostly happened by accident, when his head was still drowsy from sleeping and he’d just take the first item of clothing he could find laying around (and God knows Charles leaves everything of his everywhere) without even looking who it belonged to. Only when the lingering smell of different perfumes would hit him would he realise it was not his own hoodie, but one belonging to one of his boyfriends.

He never changed out of them, though, basking in the scents that brought him the feeling of immense serenity; Charles would tease him for it, more often than not asking him if he owned anything when he was stealing theirs all the time, while Pierre would smile and tell him he looked cute.

All three of them never thought much of it, becoming so used to their own little bubble of shared hoodies and systematically placed clean pairs of socks that Max would steal in the morning, that it was more of a habit than a one-time thing now. Which was why, when Max woke up on the first morning of testing and took a pair of Charles’ socks in his sleepy state, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.

The thing with them was that, while Pierre and Charles had no issues with holding hands in public or leaving a few affectionate kisses on each other’s cheeks, Max was a lot more reserved; being the one who got pulled into their little trio last, he still worried about the opinions of people way too much, and so, nobody knew that he was dating them, too.

Pierre and Charles didn’t hold it against him, smothering him with affection when they were in the privacy of one of their rooms. It was easier that way, too, because they didn’t have to explain to people that there were _three_ of them dating – apparently, a gay, two-people couple in the paddock caused big enough of a stir by itself, and none of them had the will to go through that again.

That meant that no one knew Max was a part of them, too. And, when he came to the paddock, his feet adorning a pair of colourful socks Charles had gotten as his Secret Santa gift, Daniel immediately noticed. His eyes never left the Dutchman, an unreadable expression on his face that had Max looking at him confusedly.

Daniel looked away, and Max didn’t know what to think of that. “Have I done something I don’t remember?” he asked himself aloud, shaking his head slightly as he made his way down to the Red Bull garage. From his peripheral vision, he could see Daniel looking at him again with a frown, and Max was left with a question in his head.

Testing had gone by great, but Max was exhausted by the end of it. He couldn’t wait to finally be able to go back to the hotel and just fall asleep, the number of laps he’d driven taking their toll on him.

Checking his phone after finally being let go, he saw that he had a message from Charles telling him he was waiting for him outside of the Ferrari motorhome. As he made his way down the paddock, he could see Charles talking to someone, who he recognised as Daniel as he had gotten closer. They seemed to be in a quiet discussion, Charles appearing calm, but Max could see the fingers of his left hand twitching, a clear sign he was annoyed.

Unlike Charles, Daniel was clearly pissed off about something, and Max was glad that the paddock had cleared and there was no one around to question what was happening. Making his way towards them slowly, exhaustion clear on his face, Max tried to pick up on bits of the conversation they were having.

“I don’t understand how you could do this to him,” was the only sentence Max heard Daniel say. Charles’ hand was clenching by his side, and, without thinking twice about it, Max circled his fingers around Charles’ wrist, startling him.

“What’s going on?” Max asked, looking between the two of them with a frown. Daniel shut his mouth shut, pursing his lips as he crossed his arms around his chest.

Charles just shook his head, muttering lowly, “Nothing.” From the tone of his voice, Max picked up on the hidden _we’ll talk later,_ and nodded. He could see that Charles couldn’t wait to get out of the uncomfortable conversation and decided to rid him of his misery.

“Let’s go then. Pierre ordered food and will be pissed if we’re late again,” he said, smiling at Daniel tightly. Charles didn’t say anything, his gaze settled on his shoes, and Max desperately wanted to know what Daniel had said to him. Instead of asking, he just apologised to Daniel for leaving so suddenly and pulled Charles after himself, causing him to stumble and almost fall to the ground.

“Watch it,” the Ferrari driver mumbled, but Max just shot him a smile. Both of them could feel Daniel burning holes in their backs, and Max closed his eyes shut, intertwining Charles’ fingers with his comfortingly after they were away from the eyes of people. Just as he was about to ask Charles what was going on, he shook his head and said, “I’ll tell you as soon as we get to Pierre, I promise.”

Max shut his mouth and nodded, quietly walking with his boyfriend. He wasn’t sure how they even ended up walking instead of driving but had a feeling Charles needed to clear his head as much as possible and knew that walks calmed him down. Letting go of Charles’ hand, he went to message Pierre that it would take them back slightly longer and to be prepared for a lot of cuddling.

After getting back the thumbs up emoji, Max pocketed his phone. They walked back in silence for the rest of the way, skipping their own rooms and going straight to Pierre’s. The Frenchman pulled them in, circling his arms around them both immediately; the room smelt of food and Max could feel his mouth watering, ready to eat after such a long day.

They sat on the carpeted floor, Max and Pierre sharing a look as Charles barely even looked at them, taking his plate in his hands, but not eating. _“Charles, chéri, qu'est-il arrive?”_ Pierre asked, placing his hand on Charles’ ankle and squeezing it comfortingly.

“Daniel accused me of cheating on you,” Charles mumbled out, not looking at either of them. Max opened his mouth in realisation, guilt filling him up; Pierre smiled at Charles fondly, taking the plate out of his hands and placing it next to them.

He placed his finger under Charles’ chin and tilted his head up, so that he would be looking at him. “And are you cheating on us?” Pierre questioned, a soft tone to his voice, and Max was forever grateful for him once Charles managed to crack a small smile.

“I’m not,” the Monègasque replied. His eyes moved from Pierre to Max, who took Charles’ hand in his and began rubbing circles on it. “I would never cheat on you.”

“Did he think that because of the socks?” Max asked, wiggling his feet.

Charles nodded, “That, and because you’re spending a lot of time with us. He immediately thought of cheating instead of anything else.”

Shuffling around so that he was next to Charles, Max circled his arm around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek, Pierre doing the same on the other side. Max let his other arm fall onto Charles’ lap, fingers intertwining with Pierre’s before Charles put both of his over theirs, squeezing them tightly.

“I love you. Both of you. I would never cheat on you,” Charles repeated, voice choking up. Pierre shushed him, pressing himself against Charles tightly and kissing the side of his head. Max nuzzled his neck, mumbling quiet _I love yous_ into the skin.

They stayed like that for a while, the three of them in their small, little bubble. The next morning, Max came to the paddock with both his boyfriends walking by his side and wearing a pair of custom-designed black socks on his feet, white letters PG10 contrast on the sides.


	2. "What happened?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Charles have a fight. Pierre is there to fix things.

** Pierre had been** away for half an hour, and when he came back, it seemed like everything had gone to hell.

Entering the flat, he could feel the high levels of tension in the air, suffocating him. With a frown etched onto his face, he walked into the living room only to see his boyfriends glaring at each other from the other side of the dining table, Max even gripping it tightly with his hands his knuckles turned white.

The two of them didn’t notice him enter, too busy arguing about something – what it was, Pierre wasn’t even sure. It seemed serious, though, because both of them seemed genuinely pissed off, and it sent chills down Pierre’s spine, not used to them arguing for real and not about what they were having for dinner that night.

Because Max and Charles constantly bickered, but it was clear that neither of them was serious; this time, however, was something completely different, if Pierre was to go by the cold looks on both their faces. If he’d looked better, he would’ve seen the slight undertone of guilt on Charles’ face, almost completely masked by anger.

Pierre stood by the side, watching as their voices gradually became louder and louder. When they were close to yelling, he decided to step in, voice shaky and gaze hard and serious, “What the hell is going on here?”

It seemed like it had done the trick, both of them shutting up as their attention moved to Pierre. Charles immediately looked apologetic, while Max just shook his head. “Ask him,” he stated, crossing his arms over his chest and motioning towards their boyfriend on the other side of the table.

“Oh, so it’s my fault?” Charles bit back, all traces of the remorse gone from his face. He continued, face stone-cold, “It’s my fault you leave everything until the last moment and then feel pressured to do it in an hour? Or, is it my fault you’re incapable of doing the simplest of tasks? Or, is it--”

“Stop antagonizing me!” Max cut him off loudly, throwing his arms in the air.

“I’m surprised you even know the meaning of that word,” Charles muttered under his breath, his gaze locked on the floor.

Pierre narrowed his eyes at them both, “Will you both stop that? I leave for thirty minutes and you’re about to kill each other. What happened?”

Max just shook his head, pursing his lips. “I’m done with this. Let him tell you and when he stops being an asshole, let me know,” he ground out through gritted teeth, leaving the flat and letting the door fall shut behind him.

Frozen in shock, Pierre could just stare at the spot where Max had been standing just moments ago. Charles seemed to be in a similar state, looking from Pierre to the other end of the table before falling to his knees and letting out a wail.

Sighing, Pierre moved to his boyfriend and kneeled next to him once the initial shock wore off. “Come on, you need to tell me what happened so I can help you fix this,” he said softly, taking Charles’ hands in his and pulling him up. He moved them to the couch, sitting down and pulling Charles next to himself.

“He left,” Charles whispered, voice breaking at the end of the sentence. “He left. I’m so sorry, Pierre,” he continued, repeating the words over and over again, a stream of tears beginning to fall down his cheeks. It wasn’t long before he was full-on sobbing, and Pierre just pulled him into his side and let him cry it out.

“What happened, Charles?” he asked softly once Charles’ cries calmed down. Pierre worried about Max, too, but Max was more capable of not doing something rash than Charles. A part of him felt guilty for not rushing after Max, but he’d been too frozen in shock at the moment. There weren’t many places Max would go to, anyway – Pierre had a feeling he was just sitting outside of the building and looking at the harbour.

When Charles didn’t reply to his question, Pierre let out another sigh and took his phone.

** to:  ** max  
_Are you okay?_

Once he got back an affirmative message, he placed his phone to the side and focused on Charles. “Charles, _chéri_, you’re gonna have to work with me here,” Pierre tried, taking Charles’ hands in his and squeezing them. “What happened?”

“I swear I was just trying to help. You know how he always leaves things he has to do until the very end and then feels stressed while doing them?” Pierre nodded, knowing how Max was like when it came to deadlines. “I just told him he should do what he has to earlier and then it just spiralled out of control and we both got angry and I didn’t mean for it to go so bad,” Charles continued, a word-vomit spewing out of his mouth at a rapid speed.

“What did you say that got him so pissed?”

Charles looked sheepish as he answered Pierre’s question, “I might’ve called him incompetent and lazy.”

“Charles!” Pierre groaned. “You don’t tell people they’re incompetent. He works in a different way to you, has been since forever. He doesn’t actually feel stressed; it’s easier for him to complete tasks when they’re done within a shorter period.”

“I know,” Charles responded, gripping Pierre’s hands with his, “I didn’t mean to call him that. I was just annoyed because he kept moaning about work and it slipped out, and then he said something, and it just got out of control. I know it’s stupid and now I ruined everything because of it.”

“I’m sure Max isn’t going to break up because of that,” Pierre assured him. “He just needs to calm down a little; he’ll be back soon, don’t worry.”

Charles nodded, leaning against Pierre. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, but Pierre just shushed him. He could feel Charles dozing off to sleep and let him, running his fingers down his back. Pierre took his phone, messaging Max to ask him where he was.

Just like Pierre suspected, he was just outside the building and looking at the harbour. It seemed like he wasn’t pissed off anymore, just tired, and Pierre asked him to come back inside.

** from:  ** max  
_Is Charles okay? I overreacted_

** to:  ** max **   
** _He’s being clingy, come here _

** from:  ** max  
_I’ll be up in 5_

True to his word, five minutes later Pierre could hear Max enter the flat, kick off his shoes and quietly walk towards where his boyfriends were cuddling on the couch. A tiny smile made its way onto his face as he took the sight in, Pierre holding an obviously clingy Charles.

He sat down on Charles’ other side, pressing a light kiss on his forehead. “I’m sorry for shouting. I overreacted,” he mumbled against the skin, pressing against Charles and taking his other hand in his.

“I’m sorry I called you lazy and incompetent. I don’t think you’re either of those,” Charles apologized, too, playing with Max’s fingers. Max just hummed in response, cuddling closer to Charles and smiling at Pierre, who was watching them with a fond look on his face.

They both knew they still needed to talk about it more later, but for now, they were happy to stay where they were.


	3. "I really hope you're baking a cake."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max just wants to do work, but Pierre went to the shop and left a needy Charles in Max's care.

** Max was sitting** on the couch, looking at the papers he’d been sent by Christian few days earlier. Skimming slowly over the words, he quietly hummed to himself as he flipped over the pages.

The last time he’d seen them, Pierre and Charles were playing Uno one-v-one in their bedroom, Pierre having triumphed over Charles every single time. He was able to hear them chatting and taunting each other for a while, but it has been quiet for about ten minutes now.

He didn’t think much about it, having a feeling they had given up on their game and ended up making out instead. It was only when Charles dragged himself out of the bedroom that he noticed Pierre wasn’t there anymore.

Charles was whistling to himself, plopping down next to Max and snuggling up to him. Max placed the papers down and pulled Charles closer, earning a satisfied noise from the Monègasque. Looking at him amusedly, Max remarked, “You’re like a cat.”

“I’m not,” Charles argued against the fabric of Max’s hoodie, the words barely comprehensible. “Pierre left to the shop about ten minutes ago. Says we need some things,” he continued, looking up at Max.

Max snorted, “So you decided to come and annoy me instead.” Charles blinked up at him innocently and Max rolled his eyes, removing the papers from his lap to the coffee table and patting his lap. He didn’t need to tell Charles twice, his boyfriend immediately crawling into his lap and engulfing his arms around Max.

Running his fingers down Charles’ arms, Max couldn’t help but smile to himself. With Charles’ head in the crook of his neck, hot breath on his skin, Max felt content. Years ago, he wouldn’t have ever thought he’d be dating anyone, yet alone two other men, but now that he had them, he never wanted to let them go.

Tightening his grip around Max, it seemed like Charles could hear his thoughts. He pressed a soft, slobbery kiss to Max’s cheek that caused the Dutchman to groan, “You’re disgusting.” Charles seemed satisfied with himself as he winked at Max, pressing his lips to his afterwards.

“You know you love it,” Charles mumbled against Max’s lips, moving around so that he was straddling him. Max raised his eyebrow at his boyfriend, placing his hands to his lower back and playing with the hem of his shirt.

“What did Pierre go to the shops for?” Max asked, trying to change the topic. As soon as he’d seen the look on Charles’ face, he fought back a groan, knowing he’d either be really intrigued or disgusted with the answer.

“Oh, you know… _stuff,”_ Charles replied, smirking devilishly. He continued, grinding down on Max and causing him to tighten his grip to keep Charles in place, “You know, stuff like _honey_ and _whipped cream--”_

“I really hope you’re baking a cake,” Max cut him off, even though he knew the answer. Charles snorted at that, placing a kiss to Max’s earlobe.

“--_lube,”_ Charles added, whispering against Max’s ear. Max let his fingers roam over Charles’ back, knowing every piece by heart already. Charles let out a breathless sound at the feel of Max’s cold touch on his skin.

“Save that for Pierre, baby,” Max said, causing Charles to groan.

“You’re no fun,” the Monègasque remarked, settling himself on Max’s lap and hugging him. “Seriously, no fun. What am I supposed to do now? Wait for Pierre to get back? I don’t know how long he’ll take; I might die out here,” he continued complaining mostly to himself, but Max could still hear him and laughed.

“Pierre got you into the mess, Pierre’s getting you out, too.” When Charles stuck his tongue out at him, Max hugged him closer. “I’d love to help you, but I’ve got work to do,” Max mumbled against Charles’ ear.

“I know,” Charles replied, taking Max’s hand in his and playing with his fingers.

Max smiled at him fondly, leaning over and taking the stack of papers back into his hands, still circled around Charles. He began skimming over the words again, feeling Charles peacefully settled on his lap, a wave of serenity washing over them.

“I don’t think Christian would like me looking at that, you know,” Charles teasingly remarked after a while, earning a snort from Max.

“When he allowed me to work from home, he should’ve been aware of that,” he responded, eyes not moving from the papers. “It’s not like this helps you in any way, love, I’m still gonna beat your ass this season.”

“Keep dreaming,” Charles bit back in response, “You’re not beating my ass in any way, shape, or form.”

Max looked up at him, “Yeah?” When Charles nodded in response, Max shrugged, eyes falling back to the paper but a grin tugging on his lips, “Okay then. I guess I’m not.”

Charles let out an offended noise. “I’m serious,” he pressed, squirming slightly in Max’s hold.

With an eyebrow raised, Max agreed, “Okay.”

“Now that’s a power-move,” they heard from behind them, both their heads snapping to the direction where their boyfriend was standing. Pierre was shaking his head at them in amusement, something held in his hands. “Catch,” he said to Charles, throwing the bag of sweets at him, the Monègasque immediately handing them over to Max.

“Take him, he’s being insufferable,” Max ordered Pierre, motioning towards Charles with his head. Pierre chuckled and walked over to them, outstretching his arms and picking Charles up once he let go of Max. Laughing at the sight, Max poked Charles in the ribs and earnt a slap over his head.

Max watched as they kissed in front of him, a fond smile playing on his lips. They looked like the most beautiful picture Max had ever seen, Charles’ legs wrapped around Pierre’s waist, and Max only then realised how strong Pierre actually was; once they separated, Pierre looked at Max. “You coming, too?” he asked, out of breath.

Shaking his head, Max replied, “You two have fun. I’m not really in the mood.”

Pierre shot him a worried look, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got to go over this and send feedback to Christian or he’ll hang me by the balls,” Max said with a tiny smile. “I’ll join you later for cuddles, so _change the sheets,”_ he added pointedly. Pierre rolled his eyes but nodded, while Charles just shot him his middle finger, not even looking at him.

“Don’t be mean,” Pierre chastised him. Max followed them with his gaze as they moved to the bedroom, shaking his head fondly; once they disappeared, leaving the door open (an open invitation for him if he decided to join), Max returned back to the papers in his hands.

Despite looking at the information, he couldn’t help but think about how much he loved his boyfriends and how he wouldn’t give them for the world.


	4. "you're freezing. let's go home."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pierre goes to the docks in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone stop me from writing sad pierre times, I need happy requests

**The sound of** waves crashing against the rocks did nothing to calm Pierre. He was shivering, but the cold weather had nothing to do with it; with his arms wrapped around himself, his legs dangling off the docks, Pierre stared at the horizon of the Monacan port.

It was eleven at night when he left their flat, trudging down the pavement until he found himself looking at the sea. The flashing lights of the city shone behind him, but he didn’t mind. His head was heavy, and he needed a breath of fresh air.

He left Charles and Max sleeping in the flat, venturing out on his own. His phone was in his pocket in case one of them woke up and went looking for him, but he’d almost forgotten about it, too occupied with his thoughts.

Watching _Drive To Survive_ seemed alright until they were watching it. The episodes hit him harder than Pierre expected them to, seeing his failures on screen, seeing Anthoine… the season was a long one, and Pierre was glad to see it end.

The only good thing about it was that he got to share it with his boyfriends.

The feeling of his phone vibrating in his pocket broke Pierre out of his thoughts. He frowned at the frantic buzzing, turning it on to see a plethora of messages from Max, asking where he was. After replying, Pierre shared his location, not wanting Max to worry.

**from:** max  
I’ll be there in a minute, don’t move

Pierre knew it was better not to try and argue with Max; he was stubborn, and Pierre knew the fight was over before it even started. He stayed on the docks, eyes unmoving from the reflection of the night sky over the sea. As waves crashed, the cold water hit his feet, but he didn’t care.

He could hear Max before he could see him, footsteps echoing on the concrete in the silence of the night. Max said nothing as he neared Pierre, sitting down next to him. Circling one of his arms around him, Max brought him close, and Pierre breathed in heavily, letting himself slump against his boyfriend.

“Did Charles wake, too?” Pierre asked after a while, looking up at Max who pressed a soft kiss to his head.

“No,” Max shook his head. “He sleeps like the dead, you know that,” he added, lips tugging into a light smile. Pierre pressed himself closer to Max, feeling his boyfriend’s grip on him tighten instantly.

“I don’t want him to die,” Pierre mumbled into Max’s t-shirt. The Dutchman’s eyes widened, the realisation of his words hitting him, and he cursed at himself quietly. Pierre continued, “I don’t want you to die, either. No one can die, not anymore. I don’t want people to die.”

“We’re not going to die, lovely, I promise,” Max whispered against Pierre’s hair, kissing the top of his head. He knew he couldn’t promise that, that there was no way of stopping death, but he needed Pierre to feel better; the sight of tears running down Pierre’s cheeks broke him heart as he wiped them away.

Pierre sobbed gently, and Max let him. Neither of them said anything else, Max holding Pierre with the Frenchman clutching onto him like a lifeline. Max rocked him back and forth, pressing kisses in his hair every-so-often.

When Pierre’s sobs quietened down, Max noticed he was shivering. It was then that he noticed that Pierre’s feet were completely wet and let out a sigh, followed by a yawn; it had to be sometime after one already.

Taking Pierre’s hands in his, Max slowly stood up, pulling Pierre to his feet, too. He circled his arms around Pierre’s waist and hugged him, held him close until Pierre felt the need to pull away; running his hand down the side of Pierre’s face, Max spoke, “You’re freezing. Let’s go home.”

Pierre nodded, grasping Max’s hand in his tightly. The Dutchman lead them back to their building and into their flat, shutting the door behind him quietly. He helped Pierre into bed, Charles immediately cuddling into Pierre’s side and causing Max to smile at the two of them gently. It wasn’t long before Pierre fell asleep, and Max crawled in on his other side, letting his arm fall over both his boyfriends.

In the morning, Charles was the first to wake up, followed by Max. Seeing Pierre still sleeping confused the Monègasque, but once Max told him what happened during the night, he nodded in understanding.

“It hit him harder this time,” Charles commented ten minutes later, standing over the stove and making breakfast. Max was sitting on the kitchen counter and watching him, a piece of toast in his hand.

He frowned at what Charles said, “I don’t know.”

“I remember the first time. I don’t think he let himself grieve properly; he was too busy trying to prove to people that he wasn’t a failure,” Charles replied. Max let out a sigh and jumped down, moving to stand behind Charles and hug him from behind.

“I just want you both to be okay,” he mumbled, voice quiet.

Charles turned around in his arms and smiled at him sadly, “We can’t always be okay, Max.”

“I know,” Max replied, “It doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying.”

He left Charles to fix up the food to check on Pierre, seeing him still snuggled into the blankets. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Max pressed a kiss to Pierre’s forehead; the Frenchman shifted under the touch and cracked one eye open.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” Max whispered, placing his hand on Pierre’s cheek. The corners of Pierre’s lips tugged upwards at Max but fell soon after.

He let out a yawn, “What time is it?”

“Just after ten. You needed sleep,” Max answered. Pierre nodded, and in that moment, Charles appeared at the door, holding two plates in his hands.

“Here, breakfast,” he said as he handed Pierre one of the plates, before giving Max the other. When Pierre asked if he was eating, he shook his head, “I already ate, don’t worry.”

In the end, Max ended up feeding Charles some of his food and cleaned the plates, returning back to the bedroom to find Charles and Pierre laying next to each other and talking quietly. He joined them on the bed, intertwining their fingers and clutched them tightly, not wanting to ever let go.


	5. "Do you want to talk about it?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max has a tough time with Jos; Charles and Pierre are there for comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for @kakkakerssi, who wanted some comfort (preferably with pierre). hope you like it <3

** Charles and Pierre** were sitting on the couch and watching a sitcom on television, huddled in their own little world. With his head rested upon Pierre’s shoulder, Charles was close to falling asleep and only the sound of the laugh track kept him awake, eyelids heavy and tiny yawns escaping his lips.

Pierre was running his hand through Charles’ hair, eyes on the screen but not looking at what was happening. His mind was elsewhere – or, more precisely, with their boyfriend who had gone out to meet his father after Jos sent him a first message in months.

He didn’t want to say anything to Max, but Pierre had a feeling his father’s intentions weren’t good. After all, it wouldn’t have been the first time Max got yelled at for his life choices, ranging from his driving to whom he spent his days with; Jos didn’t understand, and Pierre had a feeling he wasn’t trying to.

So, Pierre wasn’t surprised when Max came back in a foul mood; his emotions were easy to read like a toddler’s book, and at the sound of the harsher-than-usual closing of the flat door, Pierre immediately knew something had happened. A frown fell on his face as he waited for Max to say something, but nothing came, and Pierre’s frown deepened.

Even Charles sat up straighter, rubbing his eyes as he tried to focus on Pierre. “What happened?” he groggily asked, but Pierre shook his head, his way of telling Charles he didn’t know. “Max?” Charles called out instead, listening to the sound of footsteps echoing through the flat.

“Yeah?” Max quietly asked as he joined his boyfriends, standing to the side with his hands tucked in the front pocket of his hoodie. With his eyes downcast, there was no mistaking how he was feeling, and Charles and Pierre made a place for him in the middle of them. He tried to give them a smile as he sat down, but it looked more like a grimace.

“Are you okay?” Charles placed his chin on Max’s shoulder, basically whispering the question into his ear. Pierre shot him an incredulous look from where he was sitting, but Max just shook his head with his eyes fixated on his lap. “Do you want me do hang him by the balls?” Charles asked instead, earning a snort from Pierre and a tiny laugh from Max that had him smile at his boyfriend.

“I love the whole _do things first, ask questions later _policy,” Pierre commented, taking Max’s hand in his and rubbing circles to the back of it. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Max shook his head, and Charles raised his eyebrow at Pierre, “See, the only other course of action is hanging him by the balls.”

“We’re not hanging anyone by the balls, Charles,” Pierre sighed, but shot the Monègasque a look that said ‘keep talking’ because Max seemed to enjoy the interaction. He remained quiet, with the two of them hugging him from either side, but now he wasn’t keeping his eyes glued to the ground anymore.

“Can I just slap him then?” Charles questioned, an obviously dramatic whinge to his voice, “It’ll be a tiny slap, nothing too bad. Just enough to get the message across.”

“And what’s the message?”

“Oh, you know… _bye bitch xoxo? See you never.”_ Max had to bite his lip to stop a laugh from spilling out. Charles seemed triumphant at the achievement, while Pierre continued looking at him with a combination of disbelief and amusement on his face.

“To be honest, I wish I told him that,” Max spoke for the first time since he came back. The smile that had been playing on his lips fell again and he let out a sigh, shutting his eyes tightly and clutching his boyfriends’ hands. “God, I hate him,” he whispered to no one in particular.

“Why do you still bother, Maxy?” Pierre questioned after pressing a light kiss to the top of Max’s head. The Dutchman seemed to melt into the touch, bottom lip starting to wobble slightly. “You don’t have to. Tell him to fuck off and be happy.”

“He’s still my Dad,” Max’s voice broke at the end of the sentence and both his boyfriends engulfed him tightly, Charles wiping away the few tears that had strayed down his cheeks and Pierre rubbing his back comfortingly. “He’s horrible and he doesn’t even try to understand or think before saying things, but he’s still my Dad.”

“Have you ever tried to tell him how you feel without him interrupting you?” Max shook his head in response, and Pierre continued, “Try that. Maybe he’d try to understand then. I doubt he’ll ever approve of us, though. That’s a bridge you’ll need to cross at some other time.”

“I’m tired of wanting his approval,” Max retaliated.

“Then tell him what you think. Tell him everything that’s on your mind and don’t look back if he’s being an asshole. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“And if he continues being an ass, Charles can hang him by his balls,” Pierre added with a grin, earning a laugh from his boyfriends.

“I was just joking. I don’t want to go anywhere near that area,” Charles shuddered in disgust.

Max shook his head at them amusedly, finally smiling properly. “I don’t know what I’d do without the two of you,” he mused, leaning back into the couch.

Shuffling so that his head was in Max’s lap, Charles shrugged. Pierre leant into Max’s side, playing with his one of his hands while he ran his other through Charles’ hair. They didn’t need to say anything else, their actions speaking enough for themselves.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr at altisssimozucca](https://altisssimozucca.tumblr.com/)


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